Intermission
by TapesAndRecords
Summary: "We're married." Yes, they are, and it's wonderful. ; A sequel to Serenity, and a birthday present for Sophie.


**note:** Hey! It's me! First off, wow, I got... a lot of reviews to my Shiva tag. It's very, very flattering, and I'd like to thank everyone who favorited it, or followed me, or reviewed (I haven't got around to replying yet, but I will do. Soon.)  
Secondly, I said I'd continue Serenity, so here I am. This is in three parts, and though I kinda say the days I thought I'd explain it here, too. The first part is three days, the second is four, and the third is the first day, out of a week. If people want me to add more to this, I'll do more of that week. (that was harder to explain than I thought it'd be)  
And, lastly, enjoy. :D

**disclaimer: **You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you wear your dog tags to school because you're mourning Eli David.  
I also don't own the Eiffel Tower, McDonald's, Hippopotamus, the Moulin Rouge, Buffalo Grill, Amelie, Café des Deux Moulins, The Ritz, Piccadilly Circus, Odeon, Hollywood Walk of Fame, Les Miserables, the London Eye, or anything else alluded to in the first two parts. Thank you.

**listening to: **Where Are We Now?, by David Bowie.

* * *

_*ahem* Sophie, this is for you. Because... IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY! :D Or at least it was; stupid time differences... Anyway it's still the 21__st__ where I am, so this still counts. At least, that's my logic. So, I hope your day was amaazing and that you ate a cake and had nice dreams, etc. etc. (I'm getting carried away but I can't stop)  
AHEM. This is your present, either way. I hope you like it. As ever, I love you, and now I'm gonna hug you. Okay._

* * *

"Oh, Paris, I have _missed you_." he exclaims, twirling round with his arms outstretched as Ziva pays the cab driver.

"We are still in the outskirts of Paris, Tony, _and _this is only a three-day trip." she says, and links her arm through his as they start to walk slowly toward their hotel.

"Eh, it's still Paris; still France. Hey look, a giant poodle!"

She rolls her eyes as Tony attempts to run across the street and presumably pat the large dog, but fails when she keeps her grip on his elbow. He turns to her, crestfallen, and she can't help but laugh.

"Don't interrupt the lady, Tony, she's busy."

He frowns. "Is this what you're gonna be like for the whole of our marriage? I wanna pet a dog and you're not gonna let me?"  
She would take offence at his words were it not for the brilliant smile on his lips, and the fact that he leans down and kisses her before she can speak.

"I'm just kidding. But seriously that thing was huge; it would've been so fluffy."

Telling him to stop it, she trails her fingers down his arm, and they walk hand-in-hand the rest of the way, dragging their suitcases behind them.

**000000**

"We're married." he says with a promising smile, hands gripping her hips tightly, and she grins at him.

"Yes, we are."

"We're properly married; it's actually real this time."

She leans up to kiss him and she feels him smile into the embrace.  
"Well... it has been sort of real, before."

At that, he lifts her off the ground and twirls her round on the spot, kissing her through a laugh and acting like the happiest man alive.  
She thinks maybe he is.

"I love you." she tells him, between kisses, and he pulls back with a small smile.

"I love you too."

With that, he throws her down onto the bed and they both get lost in amongst satin sheets and a silhouette of the Eiffel Tower lying over the top of them.

**000000**

"So where are we going?" he asks as soon as they step onto the street, and she rolls her eyes whilst squinting at the midday sun.

"I don't know. I thought you wanted to see the sights."

"I saw the sights last time; a metal thing's a metal thing."

Stopping mid-step, she looks at him. "But—"

"Plus I'm really hungry right now, we can see the sights later."

Ah. That's the Tony she knows.  
"Okay, we'll go and eat, then. There should be a McDonald's nearby, or a _Hippopotamus_."

"A...what? Are your idioms slipping again?"

She explains that's it a chain of burger places, expecting him to grin and agree right away, but instead he shrugs and looks the road up and down as if looking for something.  
"Can we go somewhere... French, instead? A place that seems French and sells, well, French food."

"Okay," She pauses, humming slightly in thought. "I know a nice cafe but it's in Montmartre and that's quite far away."

"We'll get the Metro."

**000000**

She's impressed as they walk through Pigalle. Despite her briefing him on the large street filled with stores of an... adult taste, she'd still expected him to be a little distracted. However, he only shows mild interest at one particularly loud place, with thundering music, and it turns out to be the Moulin Rouge that grabs his attention the most. She supposes she should have expected that.  
He whips out a camera from somewhere and snaps a few pictures, before shoving Ziva up onto a large air vent sitting in front of the club. Her hair blows upwards and whips round her, but Tony doesn't seem to care, just smiles at her and takes yet more photographs.

"Are you done?"

"Yeah, I'm done." He reaches out and grabs her hand, waiting for her to hop off until they resume walking. "So instead of an elephant you get... that?" he says, referencing the film they've watched quite a few times, and gesturing back to the large metal object on which another tourist now stands, holding down their skirt and posing like Marilyn Monroe.

"The elephant has not been there for quite some time, Tony, and I know you know that because you told me when we watched the movie."

"Huh. Guess I did. Come on, where's this place? I'm getting more hungry with that buffalo place back there."

"They do not serve actual _buffalo _there, it's a name-"

**000000**

"Hey, I recognize this place! Wait, don't tell me, don't tell me... Amelie! It was in Amelie!"  
His voice is proud as he loudly mentions the French movie they once watched together.

She smiles, and confirms his statement affectionately, even though she suspects he knew the answer because of the poster hanging on a wall inside, visible through a big window.

"You didn't tell me this was here, unless this is the place we're eating in?" he trails off as she shakes her head.

"No, I had another in mind. But we can eat here if you'd like..."

"Nah it's okay. It's just pretty cool, there's the bar and over there's where they—"

"Yes, Tony." She says, clearing her throat as he mentions the part they both paid less attention to in the movie, and more attention re-enacting, with each other. He moves closer to the door, but she pulls him away from the entrance before he walks in aimlessly. She doesn't realize she's blushing until he asks her if he's embarrassing her. His low voice and the suggestion in his eyes do nothing to help.

**000000**

Another walk, up a hill that's admittedly steeper than she remembers, and round the top of Montmartre a couple of times, they finally reach the cafe she recalls so well.  
His eyes widen as they step inside; he stares at the place, blindly following her as he apparently tries to read every single song lyric at once.  
It's not quite movie quotes littering every surface, but she still thought he'd like it.

"Wow. This place is _awesome_." Tony says, looking round at the walls as they are shown to their table. "They got Michael Jackson, they got... Dexy's Midnight Runners."

She smiles and reads through the menu in her hands, pleased that he likes the decoration.

"And they must've painted them all by hand, too. Okay I think this beats the Amelie place."

Once they've ordered- Tony, some onion soup, and her a Croque Madame- he reaches over and takes her hand in his, quietly murmuring some Frank Sinatra as her eyes meet his.

He stops singing and smiles. "You knew I'd love this place, just because there are songs written all over it."

She looks down momentarily, not sure whether to be embarrassed or just feel silly.  
"Yes."

"I wanna marry you all over again."

He beams at her, and she does the same back, and they talk quietly until their food arrives.  
Tony tells her, after he's finished his meal and some of hers, that he definitely _loves_ French food.

* * *

He grins, catching her hand in his as they step out of the tube station, clearing his throat before exclaiming- probably too loudly- "_London baby!_"

She merely rolls her eyes, much like he'd expected her to do, and walks alongside him.

They hail a cab surprisingly quickly, and tumble in with their suitcases as cars go speeding past right next to them. A friendly driver with a strong accent asks their destination, and after Ziva conveys the address, he stares out the window as they head to their hotel.

London is bustling and full, but he'd expected no less. In all honesty, he's not sure why they're here; the other destinations on their honeymoon have past, and personal meanings for the both of them. But London is a city that passed them by with their job, as much as he'd have liked to take a trip with her, either undercover as bumbling tourists or simply picking up a witness.  
Either way, they'd booked two tickets and here they are.

"Look! It's a bus!"

She laughs at his outburst, presumably due to his wording- yeah, he admits perhaps he could've been slightly more eloquent-, but nods regardless.  
He knew there was a reason he married her.

More red buses drive past them, obscuring telephone boxes and big shiny buildings as they go, and Tony's so engrossed in the passing scenery that he's almost surprised when Ziva tugs on his hand, thanks the driver, and suddenly they're standing on the sidewalk.

"Now, you're sure we shouldn't have booked into The Ritz?"

"Yes, Tony, I'm sure. Besides, this place is lovely. It may not be directly in the center of London, but it's better than nothing, yes?"

He grumbles a reply in mock annoyance.

"Well, I can always make it up to you." she says, voice low, and his head snaps round to see her hooded, darkened eyes.  
Suddenly, his blood's rushing and his interest is peaked, and he drags her through a revolving door to check in as quickly as possible.

**000000**

He's heard that if you stand in Piccadilly Circus for at least twenty minutes, you'll see someone famous. Despite his being desperate to try that, Ziva's not quite so willing to comply. Luckily for her, the swarming crowds near sweep them along, past big glowing lights and shining billboards, and if there _was _a famous person, they could've been standing right next to him at one point and he wouldn't have noticed.

They keep walking down the street, reaching a big square with bright buildings, one of which catches his eye.

"We can't go see a movie there, right?" he says, gesturing over to the Leicester Square Odeon; a massive cinema with an equally large poster illuminated at the front.

"Sadly, no. The prices are horrific, I've been told, and I don't think we have time, anyway."

They do eat right by the place, though, then wander through a small green area and look at celebrities' concreted handprints. Hollywood Walk of Fame, it is not, but he still snaps some pictures regardless.

They circle round twice before heading into the Theater district.

"Wow. How many theatres are here, exactly?"

"I do not know. But a lot, I presume."

He grins at her, then pulls her over to a side street where _Les Miserables _is showing, if only to see where the stage door is.

**000000**

"It is taller than I remember." she says, absentmindedly, and he tears his gaze from the large spinning circle that is the London Eye, to catch her gaze.

"You ever been on it?"

She shakes her head, and he nods. Despite being married, they still don't know everything about one another.

Looking to the ticket office, he makes up his mind and closes his fingers round her wrist. "Then today's your lucky day, Ziva."

He quietens her protests that, _Oh no I'm sure we don't have to_ and _Tony are you sure we have time?,_ as only a husband could, he supposes, and soon enough they're queuing in line with lots of other tourists, a dog that reluctantly gets shooed away, and a rather cranky child or two.  
Eventually, though, they get let onto their capsule, with one other couple and a family of three, and he thinks he's as excited at the four-year-old that runs up and down the space, squealing in delight when the wheel starts to turn.

**000000**

"See? This way we can look at all of London that we won't be able to fit in. And, we get a really great view." he says as he slips his arms round her waist and shuffles closer, leaning fully against her whilst she rests her hands on the railing.

"I suppose so. And the view is particularly good. Are you not going to get any photos?"

He thinks about it, yes, but after only a second, he shakes his head, quite content to stand with his wife in his arms and just look at the city below. He's always got the memories, anyway.

* * *

The sun and heat hit her as soon as they step off the boat; the vague sea breeze had at least cooled her down on the journey from the airport to their destination. However, it's gone now, and warmth crashes over her in a sudden wave.  
Tony seems unaffected, though she supposes she should've expected that. His enthusiasm apparently taking over for now, he reaches for her hand and drags her up the path before she's even had a chance to thank the driver.

A large, familiar building looms in front of them suddenly, and she smiles brightly as the shape forms between the trees. Tony laughs happily, adjusts his hat so it's slightly off-center on the top of his head, and pulls her toward the entrance.

"DiNozzo, here for a week." she says to the woman behind the desk, and her husband buries his face in her hair at his words. Yeah, it's still pretty weird to say _their_ last name.

"I'll take over from here, Alex," says another voice, and Ziva twists her head round to see an old friend walking in their direction. The woman behind the desk stands and promptly disappears.

"Sam! My man!" Tony exclaims, arms moving from their previous position to engulf the smart-looking blonde in a manly, back-patting hug.

"It's good to see you again, Mr DiNozzo. And I believe congratulations are in order?"

Ziva blushes, but hugs their friend all the same.

Her cheeks flush even more when Sam- and his lovely, shiny badge sporting the title _Manager-_ tells them the Honeymoon Suite is ready. Tony just casts his eyes to the ground, guiltily, but despite her thinking she should've been the one to book the hotels, she just laughs, takes her husband's hand in his, and lets Sam check them in.  
When he mentions it, they say they can do without the personal waiter this time. Tony agrees, and adds almost sneakily that it just wouldn't be the same if they had someone else running around after them.

Saying a temporary- at least she hopes- farewell to their friend, they head to the elevator as someone else wheels away their luggage.

She turns to Tony and raises an eyebrow as soon as the doors slide shut. "Honeymoon Suite?"

"Oh yeah, about that..." he trails off, laughing nervously, and she glares at him.

They head into their room, him three steps behind and clutching at his arm. She thinks it's a fair deal.

* * *

I'm marking this as complete, because even if anyone wants me to continue it (and please, let me know if you do), I'm not sure whether I'll do so here, or in a separate fic. Okay.


End file.
